“The pleasure is mine. I’ve heard many tales about you over the last few days. I’m excited to finally meet you.” Mereau smiled and clasped Sanjay’s shoulder. “We will do great things together for Pebbles. I know it.”
The tenor of his voice and the glint in his eye made Sanjay want to salute and fall in line.
Next up was Cesar Perez. He was diminutive as well and appeared much older than Mereau…physically. Sanjay guessed him to be in his seventies. But his looks were also deceiving. Though he was sun-weathered and wiry, the man still sported a full head of black hair and the grip of a man twenty years his junior.
“Anlon tells me we have you to thank for helping Pebbles connect with Citali,” said Cesar.
“My part was small compared to hers.”
“Well, I thank you, nonetheless. Your assistance may not only bring peace to Pebbles but also help us solve some baffling ancient mysteries.”
In the taxi van ride to the hotel, Sanjay reflected on Cesar’s comment and prayed it would be possible to bring Pebbles peace.
Casbah Café
Noumea, New Caledonia
There were moments during dinner when Pebbles forgot why they had all gathered in Noumea. It felt more like a reunion of old friends, the kind of get-together where smiles and laughter were as prevalent as the retelling of events that bonded the friendships. Mix in some side conversations where everyone shared updates about recent goings-on in their lives and moments when individual conversations silenced to tune into a fascinating tale shared by one person or another, and the gathering felt magical. Of course, the Casablanca aura of the Moroccan-styled café added to the effect, as did the freely flowing wine.
Ironically, to Pebbles, the person most responsible for the pleasant vibe of the evening was Sanjay. For many of the stories told by the others at the table were shared to welcome him into the fold. In that way, it reminded her of bringing a boyfriend to a family dinner for the first time, or a happy hour with a new co-worker and Pebbles was shocked to discover Sanjay was as gifted a storyteller as Mereau and Cesar.
Holding hands with Anlon under the table, surrounded by friends and the festive atmosphere, Pebbles felt as relaxed and happy as she’d been in a long time. Yet, every now and then throughout the evening, she would look around at other diners in the dimly lit restaurant, or at the softly crooning pianist in the corner, or the palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze outside, and she would remember why they were there.
She could not help but zone out in those moments. Her eyes would glaze over until everything was a blur of shapes and lights. The buzz of other diners, the crooner’s voice, even the laughter at her own table, would fade into a distant din. The warmth of Anlon’s hand would dissipate. Utterly alone, her thoughts would begin to drift toward Citali and the two possible outcomes that lay ahead. Their next steps would either sate Citali’s spirit or the woman’s memories and consciousness would forever reside in Pebbles’ mind.
Banque Caledonienne
Noumea, New Caledonia
September 23
The next morning, Pebbles stepped out of the taxi under a blanket of gray above. Anlon came up beside her on the right and took hold of her hand. Jennifer took position on Pebbles’ left. From a second taxi emerged Cesar, Mereau and Sanjay.
When the six were together on the curb, Cesar said to the group, “They are a suspicious lot. These New Caledonians. There will probably be armed guards with scowls on their faces that escort us everywhere. The minister, Garnier, he will act like the lord of the manor. The best approach is to play along, kill them with kindness.”
Her heart thumping in her throat, Pebbles trembled. Anlon whispered to ask her if she was okay. She nodded, but it was not true. Slightly dizzy, mind foggy, she could feel something tugging at her, warning her to go no farther. Was it Citali trying to press her way into Pebbles’ consciousness or the fear of the unknown? Like a zombie, she marched behind Cesar, her hand clasping Anlon’s, with Jennifer, Mereau and Sanjay following behind.
The entourage from the bank was waiting for them in the lobby. As Cesar had predicted, the contingent included a half-dozen security guards. With them were two besuited executive types. One of them introduced himself as the bank manager, Claude Fremont. The other was Jean Garnier, the curator of Aja Jones’ art collection. As Cesar made return introductions, Pebbles could feel the beginnings of another seizure. Closing her eyes, she concentrated her thoughts. Not now! Not now! This isn’t the time. Oasis...oasis…oasis…
She felt a tug on her hand. Anlon whispered. “Are you okay?”
Pebbles opened her eyes and nodded just as Garnier expressed his frustration at the size of their party. “Dr. Perez, we expected three, not six.”
Cesar assured him there would only be three to examine the necklace. “Dr. Cully, Dr. Varma and Ms. Stevens are traveling with us. They are happy to wait here in the lobby, though we may wish to step out and consult with them during our examination. Perhaps an office or conference room could be arranged?”
While her dizziness continued, Pebbles listened to a brief side-conversation in French between Fremont and Garnier. Afterward, Garnier announced that Anlon, Sanjay and Jennifer would be situated in a conference room while Pebbles, Cesar and Mereau examined the necklace in a separate room. Escorted by the security guards, they began to walk toward an elevator. Pebbles stumbled but was steadied by Anlon. The bank manager inquired if there was a problem.
“She’s feeling a little under the weather,” Anlon said. Pebbles felt his arm wrap around her shoulder.
Fremont halted, bringing the full group to a stop as well. “Would mademoiselle care to sit? Perhaps a glass of water?”
“No. I’ll be fine.” Pebbles smiled, her trembling hands hidden behind her back.
“Très bien. Then if mesdames et messieurs will follow me, we shall procéder.”
The quivering inside Pebbles continued during the cramped and glacially slow elevator ride to the second floor. It worsened as they were led to the conference room where Anlon and the others would wait. Her body began to shake. She swooned and looked at Anlon. “I’m sorry. I tried. I can’t stop it.”
An image flashed into Pebbles’ mind. It was the teenager kneeling before the bonfire, her eyes pleading with the burly man who gripped a spear. The smell of smoke was overwhelming. Pebbles began to cough. She felt Anlon’s arm grip her tightly as he called for a chair and some water.
Trees exploded into splinters as the masked men pushed into the clearing. They hooted and hollered as they slayed the stragglers who had stayed behind to buy Citali time to escape.
From the cover of bushes beyond the clearing, Citali watched the evil bitch emerge from the smoke. Strutting like she was already victorious, her own mask shimmering in the bonfire’s flames, she dispatched an old man with a flick of the jagged knife in her hand. Voices called to Citali.
“Run! Get away! You cannot save them!”
But her eyes were riveted on the sobbing teenager at the edge of the bonfire. She knelt with her head bowed, the weighty headdress lolling to one side of her head. As the conquering queen approached, knife poised, her army of savages advanced too. The burly man waved his spear back and forth, shouting at them.
Citali could not hear the words he spewed at them, but she understood the gist.
Come closer, and I will kill her!
In a flash of horror, Citali watched him wheel around, spear the teenaged girl in the chest and fling her flailing body into the bonfire.
“No!”
The words were out of Citali’s mouth before any of her escorts could stop her. The evil bitch staggered momentarily, but her head snapped in Citali’s direction when she heard her yell.
“Run, Keeper! Run!”
Citali clutched her necklace and screamed at the top of her lungs.
“You shall pay, demon! I will eat your heart!”
With Pebbles yelling in a tongue that Anlon had never heard, he held out his arms to quell the itc
hy security guards standing around the conference table. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just take it easy.” Over his shoulder, he looked for Sanjay. “A little help, please.”
But the psychologist was already kneeling beside Pebbles, his monotone voice repeating the word oasis.
“What in the devil is going on?” demanded Garnier.
Anlon was too focused on Pebbles to take the time to answer, but he need not have worried. Mereau stepped forward and spoke to the man in French.
An animated conversation between the two men ensued, during which Anlon held onto the railing Pebbles as tightly as he could. He joined Sanjay in chanting the word oasis, but to no effect.
Cesar joined the battle of words between Mereau and Garnier. Fremont entered the verbal fray as well. Anlon watched Garnier shake his head from side to side. “Non! Non! Fini!”
“S'il vous plaît, mon ami. Compassion,” Mereau appealed.
“Non! Fini! Au revoir.” Garnier turned away from Mereau and headed for the conference room exit. Fremont, standing beside Garnier, signaled for his guards to escort Anlon’s party from the room.
Out of the corner of his eye, Anlon saw one of the guards move toward them and then he felt Jennifer push past. He looked up to see her bar the guard’s way. With her hand pressing against the man’s chest, she said, “Easy, tiger.”
The guard pushed her hand away and grabbed her by the arm.
“Get off,” she said, yanking her arm free.
Two other guards reached for their weapons. While Cesar protested, Anlon returned his attention to Pebbles, for she fought against his hold, spittle flying from her mouth as she screamed at an invisible adversary. From behind, he heard Mereau boom, “Stop where you are, messieurs, and tell your men to do the same.”
Anlon looked up to see Mereau rubbing his hands together, a glow of red emanating from between them. Oh, shit! Anlon vaulted up. “Mereau, don’t!”
“I am sorry, my friend. I am not leaving until we have seen the necklace.”
“What do you have in your hands? Is it a bomb?” Fremont’s tone was frantic as he stepped back. The guards and Garnier stepped back as well.
“No,” Mereau laughed.
“A weapon, then?”
“If I choose to use them in such a way, they can be.”
“You brought a weapon into my bank?” Fremont was purple faced. “Surrender it at once or I shall have you arrested!”
Anlon moved in between Mereau and the guards. Turning to Mereau, he said, “There’s no need for a confrontation.”
“Tell that to the men with guns pointed at us,” Mereau said.
“Leave at once! Partir!” shouted Fremont.
“Come now, Claude, be reasonable,” said Cesar.
“Raisonnable? Raisonnable?” Fremont spat. “He has a weapon! He has threatened me! This woman…she is deranged.”
“She’s just having a vision,” Sanjay said. “She means no harm.”
Cesar echoed Sanjay’s comment. “She is a clairvoyant. She feels the presence of the necklace. It is speaking to her. She’s just answering back.”
“Excusez-moi? You told me she was an archaeologist,” said Garnier.
“No, I did not, monsieur. I told you she was an expert.”
“You said she could help authenticate the necklace.”
“Indeed, she can…if you will let her.”
In the midst of the angry jawboning going back and forth, Anlon heard a thump. He turned to see Pebbles slumped on the floor, Sanjay holding her in his arms. Tears running down her face, she said, “She was just a child.”
Seconds later, she passed out. The room silenced. Looking up once again, Anlon saw confused expressions from all the New Caledonians. He focused on the bank manager. “Please, just give us a little time to get her back on her feet. She’ll be fine.” Before Fremont could answer, Anlon instructed Mereau to surrender the glowing stones in his hands.
“When they put away their guns, I will—”
“Look, Mereau. I appreciate your gallantry, but it’s hurting more than it’s helping right now. Just give them the frickin’ stones so we can try and talk this out.” Anlon turned to Fremont. “I’d like to think calmer heads can prevail.”
Though it took several more minutes of cajoling both parties, Anlon brokered a cessation of hostilities. Mereau gave up his Dreylaeks, the cookie-sized Munuorian stones capable of leveling the bank, and the bank manager ordered his guards to holster their weapons. Meanwhile, Cesar negotiated with Garnier to regain permission to examine the necklace.
Anlon was not thrilled with the compromise Cesar and Garnier agreed upon. Only Cesar and Mereau would examine the necklace. Pebbles would stay in the conference room with Anlon and the others. He appealed to Garnier. “If she recovers sufficiently before you finish with the necklace, I’d like to ask that you reconsider and allow her to join them.”
The curator denied the request. “Non! Under no circumstances will she be allowed in the room with the necklace. If she has another fit, she could damage it. I will not take the risk.”
As Anlon prepared a rebuttal, Mereau pulled him aside and whispered, “Trust me, my friend. If what I suspect about the necklace is true, she will get to see it. Just go along with the compromise for the time being.”
The clasped necklace was laid out on a white cloth. Cesar flicked on the lights of his magnifier-eyeglasses and began his examination. Mereau stood on the opposite side of the table. Hands behind his back, he watched Cesar meticulously study the artifact from one end to the other, every so often looking up to smile at Garnier and two security guards standing behind Cesar. All three looked ready to pounce at the slightest hint of trouble.
“Tell me, monsieur, what is your view of the relic’s origin?” Mereau asked.
The curator, shaken from his surveillance, blinked several times and cleared his throat before answering. “It is hard to say. It is obviously from antiquity, but we have not been able to classify it as belonging to any known culture. It is a problem we face with a number of pieces in the collection.”
“I see. Then what is the basis of your claim that it is from antiquity?”
Garnier frowned. “It is not my claim. It is the claim of experts who have examined it.”
“Excusez-moi.” Mereau bowed. “I did not mean to offend. I only meant to learn how it has been determined to be ancient.”
With a dismissive snort, Garnier said, “You are suggesting it is modern? A forgery, perhaps?”
“I suggest nothing. I only ask. If it can’t be tied to a specific culture, then how did you…your experts…arrive at the conclusion that it is of great age? It was not found in situ.”
“There are several indications. Par exemple, the markings on the tiles. From a historical perspective, they are unique.”
“That does not make them old.”
The curator flushed red. “They are crudely etched.”
Cesar, still examining the necklace, interjected. “Yet the metalwork is quite sophisticated. The tiles are not plated; they are cast.” He looked up at Mereau. “Come have a look. I think you will recognize the technology.”
Mereau smiled. “No need, my friend. I already recognize it.”
“Why did you not mention it before?” Cesar asked.
“I did not suspect it until we exited the elevator. But, now I have seen it, now that I am in its presence, I am sure.”
The look on Garnier’s face was a mix of anger and confusion. “What is this absurdité? You have barely looked at it. Yet, you speak of la technologie. Are you clairvoyant like le femme hystérique?”
“You should not mock her, monsieur. She is capable of telling you more about this piece’s history than I.”
“I do not mock her, monsieur. I mock you!”
“Then let me educate you.” Mereau stepped forward. Pointing at the necklace, he said, “I’m sure the first puzzling attribute your experts faced was the strength of the piece’s magnetism.”
Garnier
flinched. Mereau smiled. “I sensed its magnetism as soon as I exited the elevator. No doubt, Pebbles sensed it earlier than me. I’m certain it was the trigger for her derangement in the conference room.”
“Sacré bleu! You are voyant too?”
“Non, Monsieur. Just sensitive to magnetic fields.” Mereau turned to Cesar. “This would have puzzled the experts, would it not?”
Removing his magnifiers, Cesar said, “Possibly. It would have confirmed the necklace is made of a gold alloy instead of pure gold. Though, they would have surmised as much from its hardness, the scarcity of scratches and dents.”
Mereau nodded. “I think you will find it is far more magnetic than any gold alloy ever examined by Monsieur Garnier’s experts. Is that not so?”
Garnier did not respond.
“In fact,” continued Mereau, “I would venture to guess they sampled the alloy, much like you hoped to do, Cesar, and discovered the gold content in the tiles was much higher than one would have expected given the intensity of its magnetism.
“Of course, even before they received the sample’s test results, I’m sure the experts noticed the seams suggesting the tiles were cast. I suspect they first weighed the necklace to confirm their suspicions, and as they expected, the necklace weighed less than it should have if the tiles were made of solid gold or a solid alloy. Would these have been reasonable steps, Cesar?”
“Yes. And if they had already noticed its magnetism, they would have also ordered X-ray and CT scans to see through the tiles.”
Mereau nodded and turned to face Garnier. “Those scans revealed dense metallic objects inside the tiles, didn’t they, monsieur? Not as dense as gold, but not feather-light, either.”
The curator deigned to answer with a tiny nod.
“So, it is Munuorian, then?” Cesar asked.
Priestess of Paracas Page 16
